


Late

by PussNHikingBoots



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Pregnancy Scares, definitely his first one, that boy not a player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PussNHikingBoots/pseuds/PussNHikingBoots
Summary: Malcolm had a one night stand and now she might be pregnant. He calls his sister for support.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Late

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a podcast (Sex Talk With My Mother) episode on this topic.

“I’m late.”

Malcolm was confused. And alarmed. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be meeting you somewhere right now? I _totally_ forgot. I am _so_ sorry.”

“No, Malcolm. I’m _late_.” Rachel emphasized the word ‘late’ in a certain tone. If he was alarmed before, he was five-alarm-fire now. He fell into the nearest chair, ear glued to the phone and mouth open. “So, that means…” He couldn’t even say it.

“Yeah,” said Rachel, “it’s a possibility. Nothing is sure until I take a pregnancy test, but it’s a possibility.”

“Shit.” Malcolm smacked himself on the forehead. _That was really insensitive._ “I mean, do you want me to come over? When are you taking the test?”

“Well, I have to go out and get some first. I figure I should take three tests to be sure, different brands. And no, thank you for the offer, but I think I would rather be alone right now. I don’t want you to come over. I can come to your place once I know. Or just call… I don’t know. I’ll see how I feel.”

They hung up the phone. The color had drained from Malcolm’s face, and his left hand kept twitching. He stood up and started pacing, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. His stomach was in knots. What the hell was he going to do with himself until he got an answer from her. What if… His thoughts were too dark to complete.

He called his sister. “Where are you, Ains? I need you now.”

“Calm down, Bro - everything ok? I’m on my way to a witness interview.”

Ugh. He didn’t think he could handle another minute of anxiety without somebody there with him. “How long will that take?” He didn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice.

“This one will probably be less than an hour, depends on how forthcoming they are. I can come over right after.”

“ _Right_ after,” he emphasized and hung up the phone.

He poured himself a scotch. He’s not supposed to drink with the meds he’s on, but fuck it. He really needs a fucking scotch right the fuck now. And he really needs to try to rein in his thoughts, because they were spilling out in every direction, inevitably ending up at the “worst case scenario.” He downed the glass in one gulp, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door. If he walked around for the next hour, maybe he could calm himself down. Then when he got home, he wouldn’t have to wait long for Ainsley. She’ll call him if she gets there early and he’s not there. Or, more likely, she’ll just let herself in. The bottle is already out, he’s sure she’ll accommodate herself. His knees feel a little wobbly from the scotch. Good. He wishes the rest of his body could feel it too, but adrenaline was stubbornly keeping the effects of the alcohol at bay.

He forced himself to stay out for the full hour, forced himself to look around as he walked, describing out loud what he saw, trying to keep his mind active on the present surroundings. By the time he got back to his loft, Ainsley was already there. Predictably, drinking a scotch. She sat on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, her high-heel clad foot swinging back and forth idly, a clipboard in her lap. Probably cleaning up her notes from the interview.

She glanced up when he walked in the door. “So, what’s the big emergency? I’ve been here for ten minutes already,” she admonished him.

“Remember that girl I mentioned? Rachel?”

“Girl?”

“The one you made fun of me for. Because we had a one night stand, and you couldn’t believe that was something I would actually do?”

Ainsley’s face lights up, smiling. “Oh, yeah. One night stand! My bro. How could I forget that. Moment in history. I should’ve done a witness interview with _her_.”

“Shut up,” he said, but there was no bite to it. “I’ve had one-night stands. Not nearly as many as _you_ , granted.”

“Are you calling me a slut, dear Brother?”

“Never,” he said gently, and sat down next to her on the couch. “Anyway. Her name is Rachel. She called me earlier to let me know that she’s…  
Late.”

Ainsley swallowed the little sip of scotch she was holding in her mouth and set the glass on the table. She uncrossed her legs and turned her body to face more towards her brother. “Shit. How sure is she? Did she take a test yet? Because she can’t be sure unless she takes a test. And not just one. She has to take at least three. From different brands. Because those things are not always accurate. And she has to be careful to read the fine print. Some of them only work if it’s been a certain amount of time.”

“I never knew you knew so much about pregnancy tests.”

“Well, I am a slut, remember.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

“And by the way, what the fuck, Malcolm? No condom? How stupid can you be? You’re supposed to be the smartest man in the room, _Bright_. Even a Neanderthal knows to wear a condom.”

“Gee, thanks, Ains. I’m really feeling the sisterly love. It just happened, ok. How about a little _support_.”

“How old are you? These things don’t _just_ _happen_ , Malcolm.” Ainsley put on a thoroughly sarcastic voice. “Oops! My penis fell into her vagina. It just happened. No,” she continued, “ _you_ made a decision. Own it, Malcolm.”

“Okay, okay." he said, arms held out in front of him in placation. “I made a decision, okay. A bad decision. Do _not_ tell mother. I’m serious, Ainsley. Promise me you will not tell her. That’s all I need right now - Mother’s Eternal Judgment. Yours is bad enough.”

Ainsley sighed. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Then she tried to lighten her beratement. “To be fair, it wasn’t all you. She made the same bad decision.”

“What am I going to do, Ains?” he asked, entering full-on whine mode.

“Seriously? God, you _are_ a narcissist. The question is, what is _she_ going to do. Would she have an abortion? Or does she actually _want_ a kid?” Ainsley seemed disgusted at the thought that anybody might actually want one of those things.

“I have no idea. I don’t know her very well. It was a one-night stand. I _thought_.” He looked like he might start crying any moment. She hates it when he cries.

“If I was pregnant, I would just go get an abortion. And if it was from a one night stand, I wouldn’t even bother telling the guy. It’s none of his business. But she called you to tell you, which makes me think she’s planning on keeping it. Shit. No wonder you’re freaking out.” So much for making him feel better.

Malcolm dropped his head into his hands. He really was trying not to cry, and she could hear it is in his voice what he said next. “I can’t be a father, Ainsley. I just can’t be. What if it’s a boy? _My_ _boy?_ " He shuddered. “How the hell could I be a father to a son? What if I’m-"

“Ooooh. This is not about _being_ a dad. This is about _Dad_. You’re not him, Mal. When are you going to believe that.”

“I know I’m not _him_ ,” he said like ‘no duh’ only for her benefit, “but having a child can be a trigger. If somebody already has previous trauma, or certain latent tendencies, having a child can bring that out.”

“You realize you’re talking about serial killers and not yourself, right? You have no latent tendencies. Having a child will definitely change your life in a giant pain-in-the-ass kind of way, but it won’t all of a sudden make you a killer. That’s ridiculous."

“I mean, maybe not a full on _killer_ , or anything like that, but really, a kid cannot be around me. I can barely take care of my _parakeet_. I cannot be trusted to take care of a kid or to not hurt the kid, unintentionally.”

“Well, then maybe she won’t want you around the kid."

Malcolm started to wonder why he called his sister in the first place. Then his phone rang, and it’s Rachel. He practically leapt up to answer. Ainsley watched carefully for his reaction, whichever way this was going to go, she was preparing herself for the aftermath. And fingers crossed. She couldn't tell from what he was saying. “Did you-? OK… And… OK… Are you OK? Are you sure? Do you want me to come over? OK. Thanks for calling. Thanks.” He hung up.

He turned to Ainsley, hands clasped together in earnest, “The tests were all negative. She’s not pregnant. I’m not going to be a father. Thank God!”

Then he burst into tears, but they were tears of relief.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love comments, including criticisms, and welcome corrections to grammar and spelling errors.


End file.
